


Reacting

by Adenil



Series: React [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Consensual Violence, Consent pre-negotiated, Homophobic Language, Intern and Boss, M/M, Plot? What Plot?, Sexual Roleplay, giggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adenil/pseuds/Adenil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony sat, holed up in one dark corner of his lab, and brooded. He thought of as many dark things as he could, conjuring a storm cloud on his face that only intensified when, a few moments later, the elevator doors slid open and Bruce bounded in, moving like a bundle of nervous energy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reacting

Tony sat, holed up in one dark corner of his lab, and brooded. He thought of as many dark things as he could, conjuring a storm cloud on his face that only intensified when, a few moments later, the elevator doors slid open and Bruce bounded in, moving like a bundle of nervous energy.

 

He was half hidden and able to watch as Bruce dashed around the lab, turning over tablets and notes and files as he tried to find something. A file fell to the ground and Bruce muttered to himself in distress as he knelt to pick it up. Tony waited until his hands were full and his back was turned to stand up and slowly make his way over.

 

“Looking for this?” he asked coldly as he held up the clipboard clutched in his hands.

 

Bruce whirled around, eyes wide, and clutched the file to his chest protectively. His eyes fell to the clipboard in Tony’s hands and widened even more in almost-comical fear. He worried his lip nervously between his teeth and shook his head. “Ah, I can explain--”

 

“Can it,” Tony said. His voice was cold and cruel as he tossed the board down on the table nearest them. It made a loud _thwack_ as he did so, and Bruce flinched away.

 

“Please, I can explain, it was just a little joke.”

 

“A joke?” Tony asked, all calm and cool with practiced ease, as if they were talking about a broken microscope or a lost wrench. He stepped forward and his heart clenched as Bruce shied away, looking nervously at the floor instead of at him. “So, you regularly write sexual notes about your boss as a big _ha ha_?” He stepped forward again and Bruce ran into the table behind him.

 

“N-no, sir,” Bruce said shyly as he stared at the floor. The pages in the file he was holding began to slip away and he struggled to catch them. “I, that is, it was just a-a thought, and--”

 

“I don’t pay you to write notes about my dick.”

 

Bruce froze, his eyes flashing. He glanced up, just for a second, in defiance. “You don’t pay me at all, sir.”

 

Tony tried to turn his face to a scowl instead of the burst of desire that threatened to bloom across it. “Paying you _nothing_ is still too much. You’re worth even less than that.”

 

Bruce jerked away, supporting himself on the table behind him with one hand. “You, you son of a _bit_ \--”

 

Tony slapped him.

 

It rang clear and calm through the lab, a connection of flesh on flesh, silencing Bruce suddenly and efficiently. Tony capitalized on the motion and stepped forward, into Bruce’s personal space, and gathered his shirt in his hands. The files clattered to the floor. He yanked Bruce forward violently, tugging him off his feet, and started to curl his lip to say something when he realized _ohshit_ Bruce had his eyes closed.

 

He had a few split seconds to think maybe he’d gone too far, but they had _cleared_ this, dammit. Bruce had requested it, in fact, with a little blush on his face that Tony had initially read as _do me_ but now he thought it might have meant _I may not be ready for this_. He could only think, hysterically, that the Hulk making an appearance right then would be an incredible boner-killer.

 

Then Bruce’s eyes opened and he flicked his gaze upwards to Tony and Tony saw only deep, deep brown and hot desire there.

 

He jerked Bruce forward again, unbalancing him, then shoved him backwards onto the table. Bruce fell, splayed out in a tangle of limbs as spanners and wrenches went flying in all directions. Tony shoved him and forced him to lay flat on his back, his legs stretched forward and his toes barely still touching the ground, and growled at him deep and low.

 

Bruce fucking _whimpered_ and Tony barely had time to register that the other man’s scrambling hands were scrambling for a _weapon_ before he could snap his own hand down, holding his wrist tightly to the table. “You little bastard,” Tony whispered hotly as Bruce writhed beneath him. He gripped his shirt more tightly and yanked him up, slamming him back down with a loud _wham_ that gave Bruce pause.

 

“You’re fucking _lucky_ to be here,” Tony ground out. Bruce had stopped struggling and was just staring at him with a sort of desperate need. Tony slammed him into the table once more, just for good measure, and the resulting moan from Bruce’s lips nearly made him fuck him right then and there, but he schooled himself. “Most people would kill to work with _the_ -goddamned-Tony-Stark. You get that?”

 

“Y-yes, Mr. Stark,” Bruce stuttered. He squirmed again, weakly, in his hold, driving up to meet Tony’s fists on his shirt, and Tony felt his erection pressing into his stomach.

 

He reared back as if disgusted, when really all he could think was _fuck yeah!_ He scoffed and swiped a hand over his mouth to hide the smile that threatened to bloom there.

 

“You really are sick,” Tony managed to say. His eyes fell to where Bruce was still bent backwards over the table, panting and struggling for breath as he gazed up, up into Tony’s eyes and practically _begged_. “I could ruin your career before _lunch_ ,” Tony stressed. “I should kick you out right now.”

 

“Please, Mr. Stark,” he said softly. Tony watched as he ran a hand down his chest and over his stomach in one smooth, fluid motion. “How can I make it up to you?”

 

Tony stood there a moment, hands on his hips, and reminded himself to breathe deeply and slowly. He gradually slipped his expression from one of angry-rage to playboy-smile and smirked down at Bruce. “‘Note to self,’” he quoted. “‘Suck Tony off in lab at next available opportunity.’ That’s what your precious notes said.”

 

Bruce groaned at his words and nodded vigorously. “Yes, please, sir. I would do anything to fix this.”

 

“On your knees,” he commanded, and marveled as Bruce slid easily from the table in one fluid motion, dropping to his knees before him. Bruce gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes and for the first time Tony registered that his glasses were askew, his hair mussed from their fight. He could barely contain his glee at the sight as he reached down and unbuckled his belt.

 

The sound of his zipper cut through the air and Bruce closed his eyes and _shivered_ at the noise. Tony had to glance away for a moment as he pulled out his cock, hard and ready and willing.

 

He ran a hand over his cock as if he needed the encouragement. “Blow me.”

 

Bruce shuffled forwards on his knees. He placed two soft hands on either side of Tony’s dick, carding through the curly hair there. He took him in one hand and pushed aside the fly of his pants with the other before softly, agonizingly so, drawing Tony close to his mouth.

 

Tony watched as he glanced up, saw him swallow nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing in anticipation. Bruce gazed up at him with a mixture of longing and adoration and never broke eye contact as he parted his pink lips and took in the head of Tony’s cock.

 

He was all awkward, fumbling motions and misplaced tongue and teeth and Tony had a brief flashback to the first blow job he’d ever gotten and then realized that this _fucker_ was doing it horribly on purpose. He sighed in annoyance and tangled his hand in Bruce’s hair, yanking his head away.

 

“I’m not your fucking wet nurse. Do it properly.”

 

Bruce twisted under his grasp, his hands reflexively grasping at him. Tony could see pinpricks of tears at the edges of his eyes and it made him shiver. “I, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Bruce begged, and his words went straight to Tony’s groin and made him throb. “I don’t know how, I’ve never…”

 

“Tch,” Tony responded. “You’re getting off lucky. Today.” He reached down with his other arm and batted away Bruce’s hand, letting his dick sway freely in front of him. He watched Bruce lick his lips, raw desire in his eyes, and said, “Open your mouth.”

 

Bruce obeyed instantly and Tony yanked his head forward, pulling hard on the curls in his hands, and forced himself into Bruce’s mouth. He heard a pained cry cut off by a deep moan as he thrust his way deep inside the other man, feeling hot wet desire in the way his tongue fluttered against him. Bruce threw up his hands and clutched at Tony’s shirt in desperation as Tony took his mouth with hard, short thrusts.

 

Bruce was groaning around him, his throat causing vibrations up his cock and into his spine as Tony slipped in and out. He yanked at Bruce’s hair and held him still as he fucked him, trying desperately to keep hold of himself enough to watch for the just-in-case hand signal they had devised.

 

But Bruce did not seem to want to use it. He gasped around Tony’s cock and jerked forward, leaving a clump of his hair in Tony’s fisted hand, to swallow Tony as deeply as he could. Tony felt the head of his cock pushing against the back of his fucktoy’s throat, then through that tight ring of muscle and he threw his head back in a long, shuddering sigh. He could feel Bruce suckling on him in desperation, trying to taste and feel and please, and knew that if it went on much longer he would be coming an embarrassing amount.

 

He jerked Bruce’s head back and listened to the satisfying _pop_ his lips made as he slid clear. He could see a trail of saliva and precome from Bruce’s lips to the head of his cock and it was enough to send shivers down his spine as Bruce looked up at him wantonly, his lips still parted and pink.

 

“Was I good, sir?”

 

Tony strangled a moan and yanked Bruce to his feet by his hair. He pulled Bruce over to where the cot sat in one corner, ready for late nights in the lab or the horizontal mambo. He tossed Bruce bodily onto the bed, enjoying the way Bruce bounced as he landed.

 

“I still need to teach you your fucking place,” he said, and tried to look as intimidating as he could with his cock bouncing in the air. Judging by Bruce’s downcast eyes and resulting moan, he did a good job. “Take off your clothes.”

 

“A-all of them, sir?”

 

Tony leaned in and slapped him again, softer this time, and watched as Bruce came undone at the contact. Bruce’s hands flew over his body and Tony caught him grasping at his own straining erection for just a brief moment before his hands went up again and he carefully began to undo buttons.

 

He had the top two undone, exposing grey hair and tanned skin, when he paused again. “I…” he looked nervously at the ground and brought his knees up to his chest, sitting in an awkward array of limbs. Tony had a moment to appreciate how delightful Bruce looked. Almost exactly like the scared intern he was supposed to be. “You won’t like what you see, sir.”

 

“Don’t make me hit you again.”

 

Bruce inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, biting at his lip furiously. His shaking hands came up and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, revealing a stretch of hot skin over his rapidly rising and falling chest. He swiftly undid the buttons on his wrists and slipped the shirt off, laying it aside. His hands stalled for a moment at his pants, but at Tony’s insistent grunt he began to undo the buttons and slipped his legs out, laying himself bare before the world.

 

Tony saw that he was already hard, his erection thick and engorged as it bounced up onto his stomach. His gaze darkened at the sight. “You really are a fag, to get off on sucking another man’s dick.”

 

He almost took a step back as Bruce glanced upwards at him, his eyes flashing green for a split second before calming to their normal, deep gaze. Tony had to force himself not to call to Jarvis to make note of the reaction, and thought about how amazing it was that out of all this, it was homophobia that brought the Hulk to the forefront of Bruce’s mind.

 

“On your hands and knees,” he said instead of all the homophobic slurs he could have said. He saved those for another time.

 

Shivering in the cool lab air, Bruce obeyed. Tony observed as stoically as he could as Bruce arranged himself on the cot on his hands and knees, his back bent and beautiful and his ass in the air like a peace offering.

 

He reached into the file cabinet beside the bed and pulled out the lubricant he had conveniently placed there. He thought, for a moment, about how nice it would be to prepare Bruce with clever, slick fingers before he realized that was _not_ what this Tony Stark would do.

 

Instead, he flipped the top of the bottle open and reached down to squirt a good amount directly inside Bruce, watching his lover shiver wildly as he did so. A rivulet ran down the inside of Bruce’s thigh, and Bruce let out of huff of air.

 

“S-sir, please?”

 

“You have until I get the condom on to prepare yourself.”

 

Bruce gasped and shoved his hands back, driving his fingers deep inside himself and spreading the lube all around. Tony’s brain almost stopped working as he watched Bruce slip two long fingers into his own body and scissor them desperately. He managed to gather his thoughts enough to pull the condom out of his wallet and slowly open the package, rolling it down over his dick as he pinched the top.

 

He took his time sauntering back over to where Bruce was madly stretching himself, enjoying the show. He played it off like he was bored and angry as he shoved Bruce’s hands aside and climbed up onto the cot, positioning himself at Bruce’s entrance.

 

Without preambled, Tony shoved inside him. He rocked Bruce forward and Bruce called out his name-- _Mr. Stark!_ He swallowed down his own desire as Bruce buried his face into the covers of the bed, his glasses driving up to cut the side of his face, whimpering at the feel. He sat there, feeling Bruce tremble around him, watching his hands close and open reflexively in the blankets. Bruce was moaning low and evenly, and it was really proving quite distracting to his tough-guy persona.

 

He reached forward and gathered up Bruce’s thick, curly hair, pulling back hard and driving another shout from Bruce’s lips. Before the sound could die in the air he yanked his hips back and drove them forward, rutting into Bruce like a wild animal as Bruce keened aloud, his neck straining and his face flushed.

 

“Oh, please, oh please. Mr. Stark! Please!”

 

He fucked him with abandon, listening to the sounds Bruce made and cataloging his beautiful, supple body.

 

“You little slut,” he said suddenly, surprising himself and drawing more gasps of pleasure from the man beneath him, speared on his dick. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? You aren’t happy until you have a cock inside you.”

 

“Yes, yes. Please, Mr. Stark. I need you inside me, please!”

 

His balls slapped against Bruce’s ass as he tried to steady himself and concentrate on pulling Bruce’s hair and driving his nails into Bruce’s hips. “This is all you’re good for,” he grunted. “All you’re worth to me. Not worth the grey matter in your skull. You aren’t worth a goddamned _thing_ except as a pretty ass for me to fuck.”

 

Bruce turned his head backwards and gazed up at him, his mouth parted as he panted in desire. His eyes were blown wide with arousal as he clenched and unclenched around Tony driving him closer and closer to the edge. “Am I pretty, Mr. Stark?”

 

Tony came with a shout, spilling out in a wild mess. He felt hot and his skin sang with desire as he rode out his orgasm inside the shivering body beneath him.

 

He yanked out before he could soften and relished the way Bruce cried out as emptiness took him.

 

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark _please_.” Bruce was begging, grasping for purchase on the bed.

 

Tony stumbled to his feet and threw aside the condom, relishing the easy cleanup. He felt short of breath as he examined the situation: Bruce, bent on his bed, still impossibly, achingly hard. He started to put himself away absently but Bruce’s head turned toward him like a shot.

 

“No! Please, let me clean you?”

 

Tony stared at him. The condom had mostly been for show, and to keep the chance of radiation-meeting-dick as low as possible, so he nodded. Then he scolded himself, managing to say, “As if you had any other choice.”

 

He stepped forward and thrust his hips forward into Bruce’s eager, waiting tongue. Bruce lapped at him enthusiastically, cleaning his seed off his cock and messy curl of hair with the awkward sort of precision Tony had come to expect. Tony hissed as Bruce trailed one long stripe of his tongue up Tony’s length and his dick tried to hop back into the fray. He was definitely not ready for another round (he had a brief thought of _way too old for this_ ), so he tangled his hair in Bruce’s hands again and pulled him away.

 

He gulped as Bruce gazed up at him, naked and perfect with his tongue lolling out of his mouth in hot desire. Tony thought for a moment about all the things he could make Bruce do, all the toys he knew he could get him to play with right then, all the games they could experience together, but right then all he wanted to do was kiss him. He made a mental note to have a scene where all they did was make out for three hours like horny teenagers.

 

“Touch yourself,” he said to distract himself from kissing Bruce. Only when Bruce reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock did he realize his mistake, because then he was even hotter than before.

 

Bruce’s eyes fluttered shut, so he couldn’t have seen the look of wanton abandon on Tony’s face as he watched Bruce stroke himself. Tony gripped his hair a bit more tightly and Bruce shivered, squeezing his cock and drawing his hand up to pinch his head, just for a second. His dick was a hot angry purple with desire as he felt himself, pleasured himself, all as a show for Tony.

 

“Please, Mr. Stark,” Bruce whispered. “Please, let me. I’m so close. Please?”

 

Tony seriously considered it for a moment when Bruce’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up with such need and desire that Tony felt his arc reactor stutter. But then he thought of gamma contamination and he growled, yanking Bruce up by his hair to pull him towards the chemical shower in the corner.

 

“No, you may _not_ come.” He shoved Bruce into the shower and Bruce careened into the wall, catching himself against the concrete. Before he could recover Tony yanked the cord on the shower and sent a burst of ice cold water over him. Bruce yelped and whirled around, his hair already growing wet and matting to his forehead and Tony had a moment to think _wow, his glasses are tenacious_ before Bruce turned to him fully, worrying his lower lip.

 

“I’m sorry, sir.” He reached down with two hands to cover his shame. “It won’t happen again.”

 

Tony burst out laughing.

 

He fell against the wall and slapped on open palm against it, trying and failing to contain himself. He vaguely registered the sound of the chemical shower turning off and managed to look up at where Bruce stood next to him, arms crossed over his chest, pouting and sopping wet.

 

“Seriously?” he asked, and Tony burst out laughing again.

 

“I’m sorry!” Tony gasped between bouts of laughter. “Oh my god, sorry. Sorry.” He giggled as Bruce rolled his eyes. “But I was good! I just, I couldn’t, when you covered yourself like…” he snickered again.

 

Bruce sighed and began to wring out his hair. Water ran down his chest into a puddle on the floor. “I know,” he said. “You actually managed to stay on task for more than two seconds, which I suppose is a blessing.”

 

“Hey,” Tony frowned congenially at him and watched as Bruce ran his hands like squeegees over his skin, sloughing the water onto the floor. “I only thought of making a note to Jarvis _once._ ” Then, at Bruce’s look, he added, “I’ll make it up to you?”

 

Bruce started to sigh again only to melt into the hug Tony offered him. “You’ll get all wet,” he said softly as Tony hugged him close. As Tony arched an eyebrow at him he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

 

“So, am I forgiven?”

 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he pulled Tony up for a chaste kiss. Tony marveled at how good the other man tasted, like clean and water and okay, yeah, that was the taste of come, but still good. “I suppose,” he said after a while.

 

Tony beamed up at him, and Bruce just shook his head in defeat. “Great!” Tony declared. “Because I’ve got an idea that will knock your socks off.”

 


End file.
